


How Iris West Survived Two Pairs of Broken Heels and a Broken Eyeliner Pencil

by RuthlesslyEfficient



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry Allen is a good boyfriend, Barry is Iris' hero, F/M, Iris has a bad day, Linda Park is fabulous as usual, a day at Central City Picture News, appearances by Linda Scott and Cisco, because Linda is always kind of thirsty, little bit of foul language, newsrooms, reference to hanky-panky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 02:57:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14071416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuthlesslyEfficient/pseuds/RuthlesslyEfficient
Summary: Iris' day starts off on the wrong foot and stays crappy nearly all the way through. A fluffy interlude set sometime in S3 before Barry and Iris move in together.





	How Iris West Survived Two Pairs of Broken Heels and a Broken Eyeliner Pencil

Iris' day started out on the wrong foot when her alarm didn't go off. Her charger must have been on the fritz, because her phone had died sometime while she slept. 

Her eyes cracked open slowly. She blinked a few times, calm, before she realized it was brighter in her room than it should be. She flicked her eyes to the clock and spat "sonuvabitch!" as she realized she was supposed to have been out the door 10 minutes ago. 

She rushed through washing her face and into a black skirt and red blouse, grabbed her trusty black pumps that went with everything, and snagged her bag as she walked out the door. Then, like something from a shitty romcom, the heel of her left shoe snapped clean off when she was three steps down on the stairway. So she had to turn around, go back to her apartment, and climb up on a chair to find her other black pumps on the high shelf in her closet. 

Shod, she was back out on the door and sliding on her coat as she stepped onto the sidewalk. It had been freezing rain last night, and Iris was already so frazzled that she wasn't paying attention. Her foot slipped on a patch of ice, forcing her weight onto her other one so suddenly that heel snapped, too, and Iris' legs came out from under her. 

She couldn't keep in another "SONUVABITCH!" as she sat there, flat on her ass on a cold slab of concrete. A white guy with too much product in his hair shot her a look as he walked by, talking on his Bluetooth, but made no move to help her up. No broken bones, she thought as she took stock of herself, but her tailbone was going to ache all day. 

She took off her shoes, hauled herself back up and then trudged back up the stairs and into her apartment, this time to change out of her dirty skirt and into a pair of black slacks. She wasn't about to tempt fate a third time on heels, so she just went for some flats when she climbed back up onto the chair to get to her shelf. 

By the time she was finally in her car (she'd forgotten to renew her parking permit and there was a neon yellow ticket under the windshield wiper), she was contemplating murder. 

Traffic, thank god, wasn't an utter nightmare, but the two pairs of destroyed shoes and dirty skirt meant there was no way she had time to stop for coffee. She was starving. Maybe she had a granola bar in her desk. 

She scrambled into work a full 30 minutes late. Scott was in the bullpen speaking with one of the crime writers, looking grouchy as hell. Iris knew the feeling. 

"Next time the Keystone Dispatch scoops us in our own territory, it's your ass!" he shouted at poor Mike as he stalked back toward his office. 

"And West!" he demanded as he passed her desk, "where the hell have you been?" Iris opened her mouth to explain her godawful morning, but Scott just kept going. "The Flash put out three fires started by space heaters overnight in the southeast side projects and we can't get shit from the fire department. Get on it!" 

Iris took a single deep breath to center herself, plugged in her still dead phone with the charger she kept at her desk, and booted her computer as she waited for her phone to get enough battery to power up.

When it finally turned on, the first thing Iris did was text Barry: "Anyone hurt in fires?"

It was only a few minutes before he texted back: "None I know of."

"Addresses?" 

He gave her three, adding, "All w/in 4 blocks." 

"No evidence of meta," he continued. "Except Flash. :)" 

It wasn't reportable yet, but it was enough to get her started with the fire department.

"Thx," she replied. 

Her phone started ringing with Barry's tone nearly immediately after showing the text had been delivered. 

"Hi," she said as she picked up.

"What's wrong?" he asked without preamble. "You never use text speak. What happened?" 

She sighed. "It's just been a hell of a morning," she said.

"Already?" he said. "It's only 9:45." 

"Yeah, well," she said. "Bad luck ignores the clock. I woke up late and then had a series of hurdles. Didn't even have time to get my coffee." 

"I'm sorry," he said. From most people it would have been a platitude, but Barry sounded like he was actually distressed she was unhappy. His care cheered her up a little. "I hope your day gets better." 

"Thank you. I'll manage. Look, I have to get to work. I'll still see you later at STAR?" 

"Yeah," he said. "I love you." 

"I love you, too," she said. "Bye." 

"Bye." 

Less than a minute after she hung up, a rush of wind ruffled Iris' hair and she felt the ghost of lips against her cheek. There on her desk was a large cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich from Jitters. 

Her tailbone still hurt and the pain was climbing into her lower back, Scott was coming back out of his office to yell at Features this time, and when she reached out she realized her blouse was missing one of the buttons on the cuff. 

Iris rolled up her sleeves to three-quarter length to hide the missing button, took a sip of her coffee (cream and four sugars, just the way she liked it) and smiled. 

\----

Despite the pick-me-up, Iris' day didn't get much better. 

She must have still been off-kilter, because the digital editors had to catch a factual error in her fire article before it could go live online. Annie came over to her desk to confirm the details because "this kind of thing is pretty unusual for you."

"Just one of those days," she waved Annie off. "Thanks for your sharp eye." 

Jack knocked over the dregs of Iris' coffee when he came in carrying four camera bags and a tripod, spilling its remains on Iris' blouse. He apologized profusely as she just sighed and tried to blot the worst of it away. 

She was finally able to take a couple of minutes to put on some makeup from the small kit she kept at her desk. She realized the concealer had run dry and a zit had started to grow near her hairline. When her eyeliner broke in the middle of drawing a line, she almost threw the whole makeup bag across the room and restrained herself from cursing loudly. 

Over the course of the next three hours, Iris managed to kill three stories, ordered a fast-food sandwich over the internet for lunch (they delivered the wrong thing), finally got that agriculture conglomerate to email her back with a one-paragraph statement that essentially read "no comment," and realized that there was a small hole in the seam at the back of her flats. 

Finally, she went to Scott and demanded to put on copy editing duty for the rest of the day just so she could feel like she was doing something useful. 

Linda, looking about 40 times better than Iris felt, floated over to her desk around 2 p.m. while Iris was six graphs deep into a Sunday politics feature on zoning ordinances. It had taken her about two graphs to realize zoning ordinances were possibly the most boring thing ever. 

"Iris," Linda said as Iris glared at her friend's immaculately lined eyes, "you're kind of a hot mess today." 

"Thank you, Linda," she replied sarcastically. "Thanks for that." 

Linda shrugged and flipped her hair back. As she moved, her shirt's neckline shifted slightly and Iris caught a glimpse of a mark on her shoulder. 

"Is that a hickey?" Iris demanded in a hiss. 

Linda didn't even blush. "Maybe," she coquetted, fluttering her eyelashes. "I may have had a very good date last night with Devon, that banker I was telling you about."

Iris' jaw clenched.

"Seriously, what is your deal?" Linda asked her, resting a hip on her desk. "You can't be jealous." 

"Of course not; not of your banker," Iris said. "But Barry and I have been so busy in the last few days that we haven't had any alone time. And today has just been one cosmic screw you after the other. Plus my ass hurts." 

Annie, just passing by, threw her a mildly alarmed look, but at Iris' stormy expression just kept walking without asking. 

Linda leaned in and placed a hand on Iris' shoulder. "Look, I'm going to give you a little advice: Take some Tylenol. Get something good to eat tonight - something not from a fast food joint. And then get laid." 

Iris managed a laugh. "Thanks," she said. 

\----

Iris knocked off work at 5 p.m., hurrying out before Scott could give her anything else from the politics guys, and headed to STAR Labs. She wasn't really in the mood for any criminally-minded metas tonight, but STAR was where Barry could be found and she was in the mood for him. 

When she got there, the cortex was empty. Cisco was in his workshop, buried in some project, and gestured vaguely toward the speed lab when she asked where Barry was. 

Sure enough, yellow lightning was flashing on the track when she walked in. "Barry," she called, dropping her bag on the floor, and the next second he was sliding to a stop a few steps away. Even though she knew she must look at least a little like hell, his eyes lit up at the sight of her. 

"Hey!" he said. "Your day get any better?"

"Not really," Iris said as she walked right into his arms. They came around her instantly and she wrapped hers around his back. She leaned her weight against him and rested her head on his chest. In her flats, she was even shorter than him than usual. 

"I'm sorry," Barry soothed. "I'm here now. How can I make it better?" 

"Just hold me a minute," she murmured. 

"OK," he said, and kissed the top of her head. He swayed back and forth with her for several minutes, not talking, occasionally nuzzling at her crown or temple. 

When it felt like she'd regained some equilibrium, she rose onto her toes and tipped her head back. "Now kiss me." He grinned widely, always happy at that request, and kissed her deeply. She curled her fingers into his black STAR Labs sweatshirt. "Again," she demanded when he lifted his head, not even opening her eyes. He chuckled and obeyed. 

She wouldn't let him pull away again, putting both hands at the back of his neck to keep him close. He smiled against her, slid both hands to the crease where her thighs met her butt, and lifted her up so their heads were level and the kiss more comfortable. He took careful steps over to the console and set her atop it, resting his hands on the outside of her thighs. 

After several minutes, when his hands slid to her lower back, she let out a little hiss of pain. He stopped immediately. "What's wrong?"

"I slipped this morning," she told him. "My back has been hurting all day. And I broke two pairs of shoes - and my eyeliner. And my shirt is missing a button," she added, showing him her sleeve.

"You did have a bad day," he said. He gave her another peck on the lips. "How about this: We get you some painkillers from the med bay, then I take you home, make you some dinner and give you a back massage with that fancy oil you like."

"You're not too busy here?"

"Nah. Quiet day so far," Barry said. Then his eyes crinkled with a mischievous smile. "Plus I'd blow off pretty much anything for the chance to rub oil on you." 

Iris laughed and wrapped her arms back around his neck. "Take me home, Barry," she told him. 

\----

Later, lying half on top of Barry on her couch, his "Chill with Iris" playlist playing on the speaker on the coffee table, full on the pasta he'd made, the pressure in her lower back eased and her skin smelling of the vanilla massage oil, feeling blissfully relaxed from a really good orgasm, Barry stroking her side, Iris couldn't imagine that life could get any better. 

Or maybe there was one way. 

"Barry?" she said. 

"Hmm?" he asked. 

"Will you go get me some brownies?"

His hand went still, and then he started laughing, his body shaking under hers. He kissed her quickly before telling her seriously, "I'd do anything for you, Iris."


End file.
